


Exes

by kscribbles



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:50:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscribbles/pseuds/kscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: A lot of fills talk about how Amy dumps Charley. But what if Charley leaves for Peter? Amy gets angry and takes out her frustration with angry rebound sex. This is where it goes AU. Maybe Ginger really survived, and both are pissed from losing their men... Cause seriously, a little femslash never hurt a meme....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exes

**Author's Note:**

> I apparently wrote the first femslash to grace the meme. Yay? Why it didn't happen before, I'm not sure. Maybe because all the chicks in the movie either had their parts cut, were Charley's mom, or got dead. *shrug*  
> Written for the lj community FrightNight2011's kinkmeme: http://frightnight2011.livejournal.com/718.html

Amy knew Peter had rehearsal and that Charley had taken to helping him out backstage, so she expected the penthouse to be empty this afternoon when she entered it for what would probably be the last time. It wasn't, though. And Ginger, Peter’s (ex?) girlfriend was about the last person she expected to find there.

As far as Amy knew, after recovering from her ordeal, Ginger had said to hell with vampires and Vegas, and took off to wherever she was from to be with her family. That was months ago. Amy had thought she'd be gone for good. But there she was, in a barely-there dress, teetering on her ridiculous fuck-me-heels, and carrying a huge shoulder bag. Amy felt a little schlubby in her t-shirt and jeans.

Amy guarded her surprise at seeing the other woman. She had never quite known how to act around Ginger, really. Not that they'd... ever really had a conversation before.

“Oh. Hey, Ginger. I didn't know you were back. When did you get in?”

“Hey honey,” Ginger said, sounding... a little sad? She set down her bag and plopped on the couch, somehow managing to do it gracefully. “Last night.”

“Oh,” Amy said again. “Welcome back. What happened? Did it not work out… back home?”

“You could say that.” Ginger reached for one of Peter’s cigarettes and lit it, blowing out a stream of smoke before she continued. “Columbia is just as full of assholes as Vegas. And since there are no vampires here anymore...” She sighed. “Also, I really fucking missed Pete. Stupid, right? Do you know what I found when I got here?”

Amy could guess. “What?”

Ginger paused and looked hard at Amy, as if deciding how much to say. Finally, she spoke. “Your boyfriend in my boyfriend's bed.”

Amy nodded, not exactly surprised. “Yeah, well, he's not my boyfriend anymore. That's why I'm here, actually. Dropping off my keys.” She held up the small bundle of keys and key cards that it took to get into Peter’s guarded fortress.

“Pete's not mine either, I guess.” Ginger sighed again, dramatically. Was she looking for sympathy? Amy wasn’t sure if that was the case or if Ginger simply _was_ dramatic. She was, after all, a showgirl by profession. “He let me in again before they went downstairs. I'm just grabbing the rest of my stuff and fucking off before he gets back.” She snorted around her brown cigarette. “Can you believe he was happy to see me, the asshole? He's never fucking happy.”

“He's changed,” Amy said, sitting down on the couch as well.

Ginger looked at her squarely again. “He tried to get me into bed with them both.”

“He hasn't changed THAT much.”

Ginger smirked and gave a short, bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, I don't care who he fucks, and hey, don’t get me wrong, your doll is hot too. But I do _not_ fucking share.”

“Me neither,” Amy said, nodding, feeling an odd sense of kinship with this woman she’d never have thought she’d have anything in common with. “I told Charley that. So he... picked Peter, I guess.”

And then completely out of nowhere, Amy crumpled. It was like everything she’d been keeping in, keeping to herself, for weeks was trying to break free all at once. She realized it was happening, was puzzled by it, and yet was powerless to stop the sob that escaped her as she tried to go on. “I thought he loved me,” Amy croaked. “He saved my life and everything. And I was his first, and it was great… for a while. But then...”

“Oh honey...” Ginger cooed, stubbing out her cigarette and pulling Amy into her arms. It was a little awkward at first, and Amy was embarrassed to be crying, but she soon felt herself relaxing gratefully into the hug. It was nice to be able to confide in someone who maybe actually kind of understood.

It's not like she could really tell any of her friends why she and Charley had broken up, not without getting into all that bullshit they’d never believe about vampires and how her ex was now fucking a famous stage magician. And it also just felt really good to be held. Ginger was soft and she smelled really good, even with the cloying tobacco smoke and she was… yeah, really soft. As Ginger continued to make comforting sounds, stroking Amy’s back, and as Amy’s tears began to dry up, she became very, very aware of how close the two of them were pressed together. And a whole different unexpected feeling swept through her.

 _Holy shit_ , she wasn’t much better than Charley, was she? But they weren’t together anymore, so it didn’t matter. And if Charley could fuck dudes, then maybe she could…. _Lots_ of ideas crashed through Amy’s head at that moment.

Which was just when Ginger pulled away. Not far, though. Ginger stroked her thumbs beneath Amy’s eyes, sweeping away the remnants of tears. “Hey, fucking _men_ , right?” she said.

Amy nodded, letting a slow smirk slide onto her face. Not quite believing her own balls, but feeling particularly… rebellious, she carefully, deliberately, said her next sentence. _This_ , she thought as the worlds left her mouth, _is where the porn music starts_. “It's enough to make a girl swear them off entirely.”

Say what you want about Ginger, she wasn’t slow on the uptake. “Oh, don't look at me like that, girl. There's enough gay in this penthouse already.”

Amy couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. Oh she _liked_ Ginger. And now as they laughed together on her ex’s couch, Amy desperately wished the showgirl hadn’t taken off running to South America. What a summer they could have had, bitching about their guys. Maybe they could still have… something.

“It'd serve them right,” Amy said, when she got a hold of herself. “Coming back and finding us...” She waved a hand in the air vaguely.

Ginger laughed again, but she also eyed Amy with a critical, appreciative eye. She was definitely considering. Whether for her own desires or to somehow stick it to their exes, Amy didn’t know. And didn’t really care, at this point.

“What are you,” Ginger asked, “like 18?”

“What are you,” Amy countered, “like 24?”

“Hey,” Ginger said, sounding offended, “I’m 23!” And then Ginger kissed her.

Full on the mouth, no hesitation. Just soft, plump lips, then the other woman’s tongue in her mouth. Now, sure, Amy had kissed girls before. But a few drunken Truth-Or-Dare fumbles did not hold a candle to _this_. Ginger had _skills_. Amy heard the fuck-me-heels clatter to the ground, and then soon found herself pushed back against the couch, luscious tits and perfect body pressed all against hers, as she moaned for the first time, into a woman’s mouth. Amy made room for Ginger in the cradle of her thighs and tried not to writhe too much as she enjoyed the kiss and gave back as best she could.

After a delightful eternity, Ginger pulled back a fraction, all kiss-swollen lips and hooded eyes. “Not bad, kid,” she said, her accent sounding extra thick. Amy felt her underwear become drenched. “Do you _want_ them to catch us?” Ginger asked seriously.

“I…” Amy felt her face get hot from embarrassment. She was as turned on as she was kind of ashamed. What was she playing at here? But then Ginger’s hand slid under her shirt and undid the front clasp of her bra and hot fingers were rubbing at her nipple, and she forgot anything but the beautiful woman above her. “I don’t care!” she gasped.

“Right answer!” Ginger exclaimed gleefully before shoving up Amy’s shirt and wrapping her lips around Amy’s other nipple.

It was some time later, with her jeans tossed on the back of the couch, one of her shoes having knocked over a bottle of Midori, and her underwear God knows where, that Amy was so focused on the brunette head working enthusiastically between her thighs that she didn’t hear the ping of the elevator or notice the conversation that followed as two men entered the penthouse proper.

She did notice when the conversation stopped, though, and a heavy bag of something hit the floor. “Oh my god,” she heard Charley say, and then twisted to see him. He stood wide-eyed in shock. She met his gaze for a second before Ginger, who hadn’t seemed to notice the interruption, did something amazing with her tongue and Amy’s eyes had to slide shut as she grabbed handfuls of dark, straight locks and came, hard.

Charley _squeaked_.

“Oh Amy,” she heard Peter say, as if from very far away, “where were _you_ last night?”

She pried her heavy eyelids open in time to see Ginger sitting back and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Ginger’s eyes darted daggers in Peter’s general direction and she lifted a single manicured finger. “Douchebag.”

 

FIN


End file.
